


The Four Corners of the World

by Dragonsigma



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Archery, Drunkenness, F/M, sand seal surfing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 13:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19274230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsigma/pseuds/Dragonsigma
Summary: In his quest across Hyrule, Link meets four new Champions, and one old. Even in wartime, there are friends to be made and days of fun to enjoy.





	The Four Corners of the World

After the third time Link takes down all the targets in the Flight Range in one go, Teba suggests they try something a little more difficult. He recruits Harth to the effort too. Harth digs through a heavy wooden chest and pulls out a mass of folded fabric. With a few shakes, the clump resolves itself into a cluster of little balloons, each painted with a target. 

Little Tulin squeals with delight. “Ooh! That looks good. Show me!”

“Shooting stationary targets is one thing,” Harth says, a rare smile to the words, “but in battle your enemies will rarely sit still and wait patiently for you to aim. Let’s see how you handle a true warrior’s challenge.”

Link doesn't have the heart to say he's done this sort of thing before; it's one of the Koroks' favorite games. Any training is worthwhile, given what he’s up against. And training with friends is such a rare pleasure, he’d be a fool to throw it away.

They carry their equipment to an open field just within sight of the spiraling heights of Rito Village. The two Rito beat their great wings to summon a breeze. It's nothing close to Revali's Gale, but it's enough to send the targets whirling unpredictably through the air, which is more than the pattern-loving Koroks offer him.  

Link unfurls his paraglider, watching the targets flutter and spin above him, already plotting his strategy. With a grin and a few words of encouragement, Teba sends him aloft with only a simple swallow bow and a handful of wooden arrows. He shoots and misses, shoots again and strikes one of the drifting targets dead-on. Within a few minutes he’s knocked them all from the sky, though the last manages to evade his arrows for a good long while.

Tulin retrieves the targets and hands them off to Harth to mend for reuse. When that’s done, they repeat the exercise, though this time Teba joins Link, turning it into a competition. Harth hands them new quivers of arrows. A glance reveals that Link’s are tied with green ribbon, Teba’s with blue.

They take to the skies again to Tulin’s cheering, shooting down the targets until none remain. Link wonders what Revali would say to see him fly. While Teba’s wings give him a natural advantage in agility, Link has his near-supernatural focus to compensate for his limited flight, and when the final balloon falls from the sky with a green-ribboned arrow sticking through it, he’s not sure which of them has won.

“My dad won!” Tulin insists.

Teba chuckles. “Not just yet, son. Let’s see the score before we celebrate.”

Harth flies past with the last of the targets in his feathers. “I think it’s a draw,” he says.

Teba clicks his beak. “How? I thought there were an odd number of balloons.”

“Yeah, and you both hit this one.” Harth pulls one of the deflated folds of fabric from the stack. Sure enough, both a green and a blue arrow are sticking out of it.

The three of them laugh as Tulin pouts. “I still think my dad won!”

Teba ruffles the crest of feathers on his head. “We both did.”

They return to Rito Village for a celebratory dinner of salmon meuniere and sweet apple cake. Link falls into a Rito-down bed comfortable and satisfied with the meal and with his training.

In the morning, Link travels on. 

 

~//~

 

Riju is bored. 

Today she sits under an awning just outside the south wall of Gerudo Town watching the sand-seal surfers rush past and offering little gestures of approval to her adoring clanswomen, as befits the chief of the Gerudo. To all appearances, she seems to be heartily enjoying herself, but Link sees her sighing when the others are distracted by the race, and he can tell she'd far rather be on the track herself than stuck watching from the side. She could surely best the other racers easily if she tried, but when he suggests this she only sighs and shakes her head and says it would be unfair for the chief to compete, for who would dare to beat her? But Link, no matter the clothes he wears, is not one of the Gerudo, is not under her rule, and therefore is under no such obligation. 

Buliara isn't too fond of the idea of the chief going off by herself with a voe, and a foreign voe at that, but Riju reminds her loyal guard that she'd already done just that during the assault on Vah Naboris and come back in one piece, so Buliara really can't argue. 

From the way Frelly winks at him when he arrives at her paddock to rent a seal for the day, she's already sussed out his plan, but to his relief, she tells no one else. They double-check their reins and their shields, sip chilling elixirs and pack more into their bags, and head off into the wastes. 

“Here!” Riju cries, pulling Patricia to a halt and waving to Link to stop. “We shall race here.”

They build themselves a track from rocks and bones and whatever other debris the desert turns up. It’s missing spectators and trophies and the endless trays of sliced hydromelon that racers and watchers alike enjoy, but those shortcomings are the very things that make it perfect for their needs. 

Riju draws a starting line in the sand with her spear. She and Link edge their seals up to it. Riju grins wickedly at him, and in a cloud of sand, they’re off.

Link is good at this, to be sure, but Riju has had her whole life to train, and Patricia knows her rider well, so it’s no surprise she manages to keep a significant lead for much of the course.

A few yards after the second turn, Link’s seal balks at a half-hidden rock, sending him tumbling to the ground. Riju hangs back a moment to be sure he’s all right. He takes the chance, leaps back onto his shield and rushes ahead of her.

“Hey!” She spurs Patricia into hot pursuit.

Somehow Link keeps his newfound lead until the very last stretch, when Riju calls an encouragement to Patricia, who dashes ahead and across the finish line. 

They run the track again and again, not stopping until the sun sinks low and a chill begins to settle over the desert. They lose track of the score partway through the day, but by the end of it both of them have racked up a respectable number of wins. Only when they must do they return laughing to the gates of Gerudo Town. Link only just remembers to change into his vai clothing before they come within sight of the guards. Link suspects the guards know full well who he is, but he’s not about to put that theory to the test.

Once they’re within the protective walls, Riju returns to the palace with a last cheerful farewell. Link heads to the Oasis Hotel to wash the dust from his skin and claim a comfortable bed for the cold night.

In the morning, Link travels on.

 

~//~

 

The Zora feast on raw fish plucked fresh from a wide basin of water that runs the length of the great table. For Link, there is a platter piled high with crisp, buttery, salt-grilled crab. He digs in with relish, savoring the taste of food he didn't have to cook by himself on the side of the road while ducking Stal-beasts and bokoblin arrows. 

The assembled guests tell stories of Prince Sidon's heroics, while Sidon, loud and bombastic as always, tries to tell stories of  _ other people's _ heroics, but while his people are utterly enamored of him they are not always so obedient as to actually listen to him. 

The soldiers pass around cup after cup of something cold and strong. The cups are rather larger than anything Link is accustomed to from Hylian or Sheikah ware, and Link is rather smaller than any of the other guests at the table. Still, he's determined to drink to match them, even when the sensible part of him tells him it's an unwise path to tread. 

By the time he rises from his seat, his head is spinning and his thoughts are cloudy. He heads out along the curve of the central plaza, resting a hand on the low rail, which turns out to be an even more unwise path to tread, for when the rail abruptly falls away, Link misjudges his step, and in a confused, terrified plunge, he tumbles to the lake below. 

Water fills his mouth, burns his throat. Panic spears through the fog that wraps his mind. He fights against the current, but his arms are heavy and uncoordinated and he can hardly tell which way is up. 

"Link!" a voice calls from above, a voice he'd recognize anywhere. Someone dives into the water beside him with barely a splash. Strong arms tug him above the water, hold him steady as he gasps for breath.

"Easy now, I've got you." Sidon hauls him onto the base of one of the glittering pillars. For a long, long minute, Link can do nothing but choke and sputter, aware of little outside his waterlogged lungs and the cool hand rubbing his back until he's coughed all of it up. 

“Is that better?”

He groans.

“Don’t thank me. I should have been watching you more closely,” Sidon says as he gathers Link up as easily as he might carry a child.

If it didn’t hurt to talk, Link might have protested that he didn’t need a chaperone, and then he thinks of what would have happened if none of the Zora had seen his fall, and he gives in to the offered care. Not that he could have resisted even if he’d wanted to. He hangs limp in Sidon's arms in a haze of drink and gratitude and exhausted relief. It hurts to breathe but he doesn't care. 

They’re moving, fast. Up the waterfall? It must have been, for when Link cracks his eyes open he sees blue stone all around.

"I'm taking you to the inn to sleep," Sidon tells him.

"Gotta... pay for it," Link rasps. He doesn't have the money; he spent his last rupees just that morning in the Coral Reef, buying arrows and swift violets to ease his future travels. 

An amused snort. "Not tonight, little hero. I do have some power around here, you know."

The shock wears off just as they reach the shaded recesses of the Seabed Inn. Link shivers as the water steals the heat from his skin.

"Light a fire!" the Prince commands, voice carrying across the plaza. He holds Link closer, but it’s not really much help; Zora are cool to the touch. 

“What’s this you bring me?” Kayden says, obviously amused at the sight of Link’s bedraggled form.

"The Hylian tried to swim his way home. Not the best of ideas, I would say, but who am I to judge? He will stay here tonight."

“As you wish, my Prince.”

Sidon sets Link gently down on a bed while Kodah busies herself with the hearth. It's one of the expensive ones, the waterbeds that feel like a dream and cost a whole day's foraging to sleep on. He doesn't have the energy to protest. Between his foggy thoughts and weak limbs and the blissful warmth of the fire, he can stay awake no longer.

He opens his eyes late in the morning to a pounding head and aching throat. Kodah laughs at his plight and makes him drink something salty and fishy that nearly makes him gag but goes a long way to easing the various repercussions of his overindulgence. 

He wants to thank Sidon, but Kayden tells him the prince is deep in conference with his father and won’t be available for the rest of the day. Mercifully, he lets him stay in bed until he can move without pain. 

In the afternoon, Link travels on.

 

~//~

 

Yunobo swears up and down that the challenge is a simple thing, and if a coward among the Gorons can handle it, surely the Hylian Champion can. Link decides not to remind him that even a coward among the Gorons has certain helpful attributes that the other races lack, namely the ability to walk the slopes of an active volcano without burning to a crisp. But the young Goron is so enthusiastic that Link can hardly refuse him. So he stocks up on fireproof elixirs from the pushy child in Goron City, dons his Flamebreaker boots, and follows Yunobo down the road that leads to the Bridge of Eldin. 

Maybe it'll be something simple, he hopes. Flying on the updrafts? No, not that. Gorons couldn't glide no matter how big a paraglider they had. Rolling down the mountain? Maybe they would accept shield-surfing as an alternative. 

His heart sinks when he spots the Blood Brothers waving cheerily at them from a rock. Several cooking fires are burning in a circle around them. Link swallows. What did they want him to do?

"Brother!" one of them shouts, making the mountain tremble with his roar. "Welcome to the Goron Blood Brothers rock roast cook-off!"

Link resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. Here he had been expecting some mighty trial of strength, and it turned out to be, well, not much more than a very rowdy dinner party.

Yunobo smiles. "I told you it was a nice thing!"

Except, there's one issue. "I can't eat rocks," he says, helplessly. He can eat a lot of things, but rocks are not one of them. 

"That's no problem!" one of the trio exclaims. "Your buddy here told us about your situation. So we came up with a way to share this manly tradition with our honorary brother."

With a flourish, the Goron produces a platter of something that might very charitably be called food, though it’s so thoroughly burned that it might as well be rock. At least it's vaguely edible. He eats until he thinks he'll never get the taste of char out of his mouth. When he can stomach no more of it, the Gorons are still devouring stacks of cracked and smoke-scented roasts, trading compliments and insults over the quality of the cooking.

Predictably the whole thing devolves into a food fight before the evening is over. The mountaintop becomes a battlefield, hunks of rock roast flying back and forth as the combatants’ laughter shakes the very air. More than once Link has to hastily call on Daruk’s Protection to save himself from being struck in the head with a cannonball of roast. Yunobo is far too good-tempered to throw anything himself, but he finds his own way to join in, mainly by standing beside Link and hopping up and down, trying to catch pieces in his mouth.   

When finally the last pieces have vanished down bottomless gullets, the Blood Brothers proclaim the whole thing a tremendous success and settle down to share stories of their other very manly training exercises. Yunobo shudders at the tales, hunched into a ball, before he remembers himself and declares he could face any of the challenges without fear. The Blood Brothers laugh and promise to hold him to it.

They sleep out there on the mountaintop. Link pillows his Snowquill jacket under his head and watches the glow of the lava rivers until the sun rises. 

In the morning, Link travels on.

 

~//~

 

She runs to him across a grassy field, barefoot and dressed like a goddess, but her warm breath when she throws her arms around him proves beyond any doubt that the Princess Zelda before him is a living, breathing woman, alive and well after a hundred years of holding the Calamity at bay in the ruins of her father's castle. 

They are the last of the old Champions. At long last, they have won. A bittersweet victory, Link thinks, looking out across the ruins of Castle Town and remembering his fallen friends. But it is a victory nonetheless, and it deserves celebration. 

“There is so much to be done,” Zelda says. Link is grateful beyond words that he remembers enough of her to hear the excitement in it as well as the trepidation. There are still holes in his memory, holes that may never be patched, but he knows that he loves her, and he knows that he will love the world she creates. This is the biggest and most important project anyone could be given. It will require decades of research, of planning, of work. And already he knows Zelda will take to it as she never did her brutal training. 

This is what the Goddess always meant for her to do.

He wants to show her the whole world, all the people he's met, all the life that's persisted for so long in the face of evil and chaos. 

After a hundred years, they have saved their kingdom. And with the help of their new friends, they will rebuild it.

  
  



End file.
